Sing me a Lullaby
by sleepdeprivedsoul
Summary: Tragedy struck the vampire nation as all the members of the vampire nobility were slaughtered in one moonless night. All save for one. Will the comforting arms of a silvered eyed childe be enough to pull Kanda from his mindless thirst from revenge? Or wil
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If I owned D. GrayMan, I would be insanely happy, and Kanda and Allen would've been married decades ago.

A/N: Oddly enough, this was inspired by Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown's "No Air". When I heard the song, vampires instantly came to mind and viola! This fic was born. Enjoy! As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.

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**Sing me a Lullaby**

By: sleepdeprivedsoul

Prologue

Silver and white swam in and out of focus. Something soft touched the side of his face in a tender caress, tucking a stray strand of hair at the back of his ear before returning to his face again to gently rub the soot away. A voice, so soft and sweet like a lullaby drifted to his ears and he closed his eyes to savor both the sound and sensation as he relished in the feelings of safety and comfort it brought him. It was a welcome contrast to the fear, rage, and helplessness that filled his being just moments ago. Though he did not understand the words that were spoken, he relaxed completely under the others' care. Slowly, he was brought up against the other's chest, the scent of lotuses in full bloom encasing him and he inhaled deeply, eager to get rid of the foul stench of blood, gore, and soot that hung in the air.

"_I'm so sorry I was too late."_, he thought was said, though the darkness that kept pulling at him made the words faint and distorted. Large silver eyes gleaming with unshed tears set in a pale, boyish face, stricken with grief and other emotions his mind could not grasp, filled his vision before the darkness gradually won out and he faded from consciousness.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Stares awe-struck at the number of reviews/ alerts listed. I am so…flattered. I mean, I never realized that so many people would get interested after reading that tiny passage. (bows down low) Thank you very much for your kind words of appreciation. I will try my best to live up to your expectations. (breaks into cold sweat) I hope I don't disappoint.

As always, comments and constructive criticisms are welcome. Also, if anyone wishes to add a little something to this story then, I'm all ears. I'm not done messing with the plot just yet, so…

Summary: Tragedy struck the vampire nation as all the members of the vampire nobility were slaughtered in one moonless night. All save for one. Will the comforting arms of a silvered eyed childe be enough to pull Kanda from his mindless thirst from revenge? Or will be succumb to the monster within him?

Sing me a Lullaby

By: sleepdeprivedsoul

Chapter 1:

There was fire everywhere. Large orange flames licked the walls of the grand structure, creeping steadily along the wood that formed the walls and roof, devouring everything in sight. As the temperature escalated, windows shattered one after another as the heat and pressure became too much for it to bear. The sounds of crackling wood pierced through the air as a section of the building crumbled under the harsh assault. All at once the entire west wing of the mansion became no more.

Frantically, he flit his eyes over the area, hoping to spot another of his kind. But his eyes found nothing. There was not a single soul in sight where there should've been at least fifty. His heart clenched painfully at that find. Was he truly too late?

His legs threatened to give way underneath him, and his breath came in quick, short gasps. Vaguely he realized that he was probably going into shock, but he found that he didn't have the energy or the will to care. '_I'm so sorry. It's all my fault.'_

He shouldn't have hesitated. When he had that horrific vision, he should have fought harder against the fear of ridicule and scorn he surely would've faced had he revealed his _gift_. However, looking at the destruction before his eyes, he couldn't help but allow the guilt to eat him inside. What was some ridicule and scorn when he could've saved so many lives if he just opened his mouth and shared what he saw with his _gift_? Never mind that the King himself expressly forbade him from uttering a single word about it to anyone. Surely the lives of his men and family were more important? But it was done now and he was helpless to change the past.

The hands that he brought to his face to shield the sight from his eyes were trembling uncontrollably. He struggled to contain the cry of despair that wanted to tear free from his mouth and he bit harshly at his lower lip drawing blood that he felt spilling over his chin. Salty drops of water mixed with it, and it steadily poured out of his eyes, even as he clenched them shut in an effort to stem the flow. In his mind the callous whispers of blame and self-recrimination echoed incessantly. And he drowned himself willingly in it.

The flash of blue in his vision and the staggering pain that he felt accompanying it, as if he was being buried alive and smothered by fumes and ashes almost had him crumpling to the ground. Weakly he struggled to draw in air in his lungs which strangely felt tight and dry and he grasped desperately at the grass that littered the ground to center himself. He felt disoriented and nauseous, both of which were classic symptoms of when his _gift_ was acting up. The enraged roar that flooded his mind had him scrambling to his feet. It was a sound made by someone who was still fighting for his life. _There's someone still alive!_

Hope filled his chest, warm and glowing and he felt the burden lighten considerably, making his steps nimbler, his movements swifter. He leapt up to the sturdy braches of a nearby tree to get a higher vantage point. _There!_ There was still a small portion of the manor that had not yet succumbed to the ravaging of the fires. It formed part of the veranda, which overlooked their vast gardens, situated in the back, hidden from prying eyes unless one was looking.

Quickly, his eyes darted about the area, ascertaining the fastest and safest way to reach his destination. Finding a path he could take, he hurriedly took off, not caring in the slightest bit the way the fumes that were blowing in his direction sting and irritate his eyes, or the way it caused his mouth to dry and his throat to itch horribly. His mind had narrowed down into a single focus; to reach the man he saw in his mind's eye at all cost.

_There!_ Upon bursting through the already partially opened doors, he caught sight of the unmoving body buried under piles of burning debris. It was sheer luck that the flames haven't devoured his body yet. As it stands, he only had about a couple of minutes or so before the flames reached him too.

The man, for it could not be anything else even with the long, flowing dark hair that lay about him like a silken veil, was lying face down on the floor. A slender limb was stretched out in front of him in a grasping manner, as if he was reaching out for something before the wooden columns fell upon him and knocked him out. A few feet away, he could spot something sharp and shiny. _A sword_, he realized when he came closer to the figure, and subsequently got a closer look upon the object as well. It was a strange thing, his mind dimly realized, even as he was crouching on the ground, heaving and pulling at the obstructions that hindered the other's escape. He had never seen a sword before with a blade that was as dark as the night and shimmering slightly as if it gave off its own light. Something within his subconscious seemed to recognize it, and his body fairly hummed as it resonated with approval. _Magic,_ his mind whispered. And he couldn't help but be curious to his own body's reaction to it, even as he agreed.

However, all thoughts on the matter fled from his mind when at last the body was pulled free from its confines, revealing a young adult just past the age of adolescence. Despite the dirt and bruises marring his face and body as a result of the fall and perhaps a heated struggle, it did not diminish the elegance of his features; the way his eyes slanted, proclaiming the pureness of his bloodline, the tilt of his nose, the strong jaws… It all bespoke of a noble lineage: the House of Kanda, of which he alone remained the sole survivor of.

"_I'm so sorry I was too late."_

TBC


End file.
